Skyfall
by Garei
Summary: Death, is not as easy as dying in one's sleep. Revenge, is not as easy as pulling the trigger. On the verge of the end of her life, a Flag Fighter is forced to make a decision that would seem to be an easy one, but ultimately her mind contradicts her.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam 00 or any of their characters.

* * *

_Simulation training is so overrated. _

It would seem to be day of many firsts for the young pilot, as she could feel the slow, warm rivulet of blood trickle down her face.

Her first time piloting the Flag to real battle.

Her first touch on the trigger.

Her first real fight.

And yet here she was, smoke billowing from her mangled Union Flag that lay motionless metres away from her. She could feel a cry coming out from her parched throat, but no sound was heard. It was just the raging whisper of the desert wind and the faint noise of battle continuing all around her, of time and things moving on already without her.

She could only manage a desperate mumble. A gargled and bloodied name of a comrade whom she had forgotten if he was dead or not. All the young pilot remembered was that moments after she had scrambled out of her own cockpit to get to her comrade's Flag, there was a deafening explosion, and the metallic body of his Flag turned from dark blue to red-hot in a matter of seconds. Burning shrapnel pierced her skin, and all she could see was red. Red ribbons of blood and tissue.

_My leg…_

What was left… She couldn't think. Couldn't think of the emptiness below where her right leg was supposed to be. Her brain tried against her will, to understand everything. But the pain was too much. Her system was fried, it was numb to everything.

_Is this were it all ends? _Her heart whispered. _All that I have worked for, does it stop right now?_

A faint image. Blond, messy hair, and those greenish eyes. Her bloodied face broke into a painful wry smile. She wished the Captain were here, to hold her hand, unlikely as it may be. She wished for him to soothe her in his calm, assertive voice, to make the end much more painless.

The young pilot could admit it now, that she had always had a thing for her Captain. Those endless denials and friendly teases were so trivial at this moment that it broke her heart.

_No time for regrets now. No time for anything else, for that matter, _she thought as her vision began to grow dark.

The grating scrunch of boots against sand jolted her. Her eyes flew open and she could faintly make out the outline of a man amongst the sand and wind that flew around him. He was coming closer, slower and slower with every step as his image became clearer at the same time. It was then that she noticed that something huge and solid had obscured the sun that had beaten down mercilessly on her before. She knew what it was before her brain had even registered it.

"Gundam…" She whispered with faint disbelief. Her hand had unknowingly reached behind her, where the squared hilt of her gun that was momentarily forgotten dug into the back of her waist. As her fingers wrapped itself protectively around the hilt, her brain slowly awakened her to realization.

A chance had just presented itself to her. It was not the chance of her survival, but more of the chance to avenge.

The man was close now. She could make out his appearance, shoulder length brown locks, bright green eyes and the striking uniform that literally announced his identity. The look of his clean unfrayed uniform and his pale dirt-less face somehow made her want to vomit. She imagined it tattered and grimy, covered with the wearer's own blood.

Her vision cleared, and her senses came alive. _Wait__. __I__ must__ wait__._

He stopped metres away from her body. There was no hint of emotion etched on his impassive face, but his eyes held something. Pity? Or regret? She wondered. There was no way of telling. A sigh escaped from his lips. It was a long and silent exhale of breath that almost seemed apologetic. He brushed stray brown locks from his face, and lowered his knees till they pressed against the churning sand underneath them.

She tried to squirm away from him, fear and panic rising like a bubble in her chest. Pain cut into her like knives with every movement, and with every stab of pain her eyes welled with tears. She began to cough as she gasped for oxygen, as if this sudden proximity with an enemy had sucked every inch of air out of her lungs.

A gloved hand reached out to stop her. "Don't move. Your leg…."

She pushed his hand away, blood dripping down from her lips. Her mouth trembled as words formed, but her voice eluded her again.

_Stay away from me.  
_

It was evident that he had understood her, as he pulled back his outstretched hand. His eyes couldn't meet her gaze now, and he could only stare at the bloody mass that was what's left of her right leg. He spoke again, more softly now that she almost couldn't hear.

"You need help. You won't last any longer like that. "

The young Union pilot almost laughed, and she tightened her grip on her gun. Those words were smothered with misplaced pity. Pity that she denied with rage. She hated this man. Hated him for showing pity to her after he had killed without pity.

He started again towards her, but no sooner had he started to move, he was forced to stop. The gun barrel hovered a few inches from his forehead, held up with all the strength she could muster. It trembled in her hand, and she felt like a child holding a real gun for the first time. After all those years of arms training and target practice, the cold weapon felt alien in her hands.

"No. Don't come near me." She spoke now, her voice shaking.

The man froze. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but thought better of it. He met her gaze now, his green eyes boring into her dark brown ones. There was an unnerving measure of calm around him, and she briefly wondered if this was a man that had experienced too much of what war had to offer.

A long silence stretched itself between the Gundam meister and the bloodied Flag Fighter. He brushed his hair of his face once again, and a slight chuckle escaped from his lips. "Well, can't say I never expected this." He said aloud as if to himself as he turned from her and stood, brushing off sand in the process.

It was a chance to exact her revenge, with the gun now pointed at the back of his head. Her finger slowly caressed the curve of the trigger, and she willed herself to shoot.

_I will end this.  
_

The pain was back again, stronger than ever. It hit her like a wave, threatening to throw her off her fragile consciousness. Her grip momentarily slackened.

_I will end this!  
_

She could see his head turn and he regarded her for a while, like an observant scientist waiting for a miracle to happen. She imagined a twisted kindness in him, an enemy who killed her friend. She imagined seeing a slight sad smile as he took in the sight of her, a tear-ridden dying mess of a human being. She imagined the worthlessness of it all, of killing and dying, of war repeating the process again and again. Tears flowed freely down her face now, mixing with her blood and sweat, lacing with the pain that was coming from every inch of her body.

_I will end…  
_

It was too much. She raised her arm, and the gun was in place. The metallic coldness of the gun barrel now brushed against the side of her head. Her eyes were open, and above her the Gundam gazed down at her like a serene god.

_I'm sorry Captain… _

_**BANG!**_

* * *

AN: I've always had this story on my mind for many months but I've never found the urge to write it down until now. I thought it would be easy to write since I've gone through the story details and how I wanted it to flow many many times in my mind, but I still had to use up a day and a half just to finish this. The female pilot is just a random character, while I chose Lockon for the story because he just seemed like a character who would go against the rules. I want this to stay as a one-shot, but at the same time I have been thinking about continuing the story. Anyway, I'll stop my rambling. Reviews are welcome! :D


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

* * *

The blast of the gun was quickly swallowed up by the swirling wind, and silence reigned for what seemed like a long time. The Flag Fighter's gasping breath and the pounding of her weakening heart momentarily paused, as if the minute hand of time had froze and rewound itself.

_Dead?_

She was surprised that she could even think. The pain had not ceased, but it was numb now, like a dull consistent throbbing that felt like she possessed a second heart. Her eyes were still open and glassy, and she couldn't believe what she had thought she'd seen.

It was the Gundam. It was still there, watching her with those eyes that glowed. No matter what she thought about their pilots, she still couldn't bring herself to hate it. It was undoubtedly beautiful in a way, it's body a mixture of smooth lines and sleek contours, and the small specks of pink residual GN particles hovering around it's metallic frame gave it an aura that was both dangerous and mesmerizing.

_Alive?_

The gun was gone from her hand. It lay a few feet from her, the gaping hole in its body still sputtering smoke. A gaping hole that should've formed in the side of her head.

…_.Why?_

The man was standing there, his gun pointed close to her face. He was breathing heavily now, all image of calm gone. There was a dangerous look in his eye, and she sensed surprise and bitterness from him. She held his gaze with her own eyes, and she felt a sudden anger build in her. Anger at her own incompetence. Anger at her sudden feeling of wanting to live.

It was her turn to stare down the barrel of a gun. Never had she felt so tired in her entire life as her mouth cracked open to form words. _Shoot me._

The man sighed and shook his head. "Nothing will change." He said, as if to reply her. He was tired too, the fatigue evident in every step he took towards her.

The Flag Fighter wondered if she will ever forgive herself, as she let herself be carried atop her enemy's back, the blood from her wound already soiling his spotless flight suit. She wondered if she could be forgiven for letting him do this without so much of a struggle, without leaving even the trace of a scratch on him. She wondered if she should've done what she thought she should, that is to stop this man from saving her, by whatever means possible.

By the time she had found an answer, the darkness that had silently crept up had already seeped into her eyes, and all sense of feeling left her.

* * *

"_Tieria wouldn't like this. Tieria wouldn't like this_." His orange Haro said in it's squeaky robotic voice, it's 'eyes' glowing with every intoned syllable.

"I know that." Lockon brushed his hair of his face again (the fifth time he had done so today), a habit he does when he was feeling nervous. "...But I just couldn't leave her to die."

_'Like' is a huge understatement. Tieria would go absolutely ballistic. _

As he spoke, he turned to look at the unconscious woman that lay awkwardly in the cramped up space behind his pilot seat, her wound hastily wrapped with bandage he managed to find in the cockpit. The others have already finished up their missions and headed back, but he was the last one to respond to Ptolemaius's call. Adding to that, he had also disengaged Dynames's communication link with Ptolemaius without Sumeragi's permission, and that would surely spark a fierce lecture or two from Tieria.

_The call was about half an hour ago._ He sighed inwardly and imagined a worry fest on board. _Shit. _

There was also the problem of the situation he faced once he got on board, but he tried to push that aside. Getting the woman to Ptolemaius alive was his utmost priority now, and he had taken to checking the woman's pulse every five minutes or so, just to make sure. He couldn't bring himself to wonder how he would feel if she died.

"Not under my watch." He unknowingly said aloud, and ignored the inquisitive questions from Haro that followed.

It was a while after when the familiar shadow of Ptolemaius loomed before them. It had sat among the clumps of white stratospheric clouds, the GN particles around it's body blinking like festive lights. Taking a deep calming breath, the Gundam Meister proceeded to head to the docking bay, and not before taking one last look at the injured woman. 

* * *

To be honest, he had expected a flurry of chaos and pointed stares once the doors opened, but he had to admit that he was not prepared to face the silence that met him. At first it was Christina who rushed up and demanded an explanation from him, but it took one look from her at the injured woman he held and the blood immediately drained from her face.

It was almost comical, but no one was laughing. There was just silence, which was to him scarier than the plain old chaos of which he was used to. Even Tieria was quiet, but just for that one moment as he walked up to Lockon, his crimson eyes burning with unspeakable anger.

"What..." the purple haired Gundam Meister spat, "... is the meaning of this, Lockon?"

Lockon managed to stare back at him, the stubborn-ness reflected in his eyes, but inside he was gulping.

"Hey, er... I see you guys've assembled a welcoming party here." He said, forcing a smile.

"You think this is funny, Lockon?" Tieria fumed, his voice raising, and both Feldt and Christina backed away a little, terror evident on their faces.

Lockon could feel the injured pilot's breath getting shorter, and every pause of breath felt longer with every second. "No, " he softly replied with finality. "But this woman is dying and I will do everything I can not do let that happen."

Silence again. He looked at all of their faces, and at least Allelujah looked a little supportive. Setsuna was emotionless as usual, but he kept a watchful gaze on Lockon, looking faintly like an amused spectator in a gladiator fight.

Lockon sighed and pushed past Tieria. "Sorry, but I have to go."

"Lockon!" The bespectacled Gundam Meister started to go after him, but Allelujah stepped in between him and Lockon, his hands placed on Tieria's shoulders.

"Tieria, he's not going to listen." Allelujah said. "We'll deal with it later, okay?"

The look that Tieria gave him was fierce. "What is he thinking, that bastard?" He turned to Sumeragi now, who had a pensive look on her face. "Don't tell me you allow this?"

The Celestial Being strategist sighed. "I will have a word with him, Tieria." She added, "But for now, you need to calm down."

"Hmph." He answered not too happily and proceeded to his room, his footsteps echoing. "I've had enough of this."

The absence of the two Gundam Meisters did nothing to stifle the awkward atmosphere that the rest of the crew experienced throughout the day, and the addition of a crippled enemy into the equation is a recipe for more tension between them.

* * *

Lockon didn't know how thankful he felt for Dr. Moreno.

There were no questions. Just the brisk and prompt reply of a doctor and he gets straight to work, as if he has experienced this situation for a millionth time and never needs an answer for any of them.

Lockon envied him a little. The work of a doctor holds no sides and no barriers, they were open to the prospect of healing, be it enemy or ally. Questions would only obstruct them, and they had no time for that. To them, the death of patients hold no answers at all.

"I know how you feel, Stratos." The doctor had said, a soft smile hidden behind the green surgical mask that he had donned as soon as Lockon had stepped into the medical ward of Ptolemaius. He had read Lockon's mind like an open book, had made him feel a little better with himself with those words.

_I know how it feels to tread on barriers. _

He had been trying hard to pay attention to the doctor's initial assessment of the pilot's health, but he could only catch snippets of it.

"... Some burns... amputate... yes... no, it can't be helped... surgery is the best way..." The doctor had said, and he could only nod thoughtlessly, his mind drifting with fatigue. There was nothing he could do for her now.

No sooner had he excused himself from the ward and entered his living quarters, a wave of dizziness hit him and his vision blurred. The brown-haired meister leaned heavily against the wall, sliding to sit in a heap on the cold floor. His palms were clammy and cold and he felt a little nauseated, because suddenly it hit him, the enormity of his actions.

This barrier that he is treading is so fine and fragile that it could break at any moment. The weight is huge, doubled with the burden of a pilot he is carrying over his shoulders. Her possible death or survival would still mean the same thing: her body was still here. It was still a dead weight.

But a missing pilot would mean something more. Her people would start searching for her, and even though the desert wind was strong and the conditions harsh enough to cover up the pilot's dried up blood and the bootprints of a Gundam meister, what if they somehow linked her missing body to Celestial Being? What then?

Lockon didn't have to think hard to know the answer to that.

He wanted to question himself, question his actions that would probably cause more than just a problem to his fellow crewmates. He wanted to believe that Earth's corrupt military would not care for an insignificant pilot close to death, would just give up searching for her missing body and shove everything under a carpet together with a quick funeral to finish the deed off. But he wouldn't know that, because he wouldn't know someone like Graham Aker.

* * *

AN: Finally decided to write a continuation to the story. I apologize for the long hiatus. Reviews are welcome.


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